


Good Girls

by swanqueenfic13



Series: Aca-Song Fics [7]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Based on a song, Emily-centric, F/F, Secret Relationship, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 05:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6840367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueenfic13/pseuds/swanqueenfic13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the 5SOS song "Good Girls" I have a little Staubrey fic for you! It's very Emily-centric as it is told from Emily's perspective, but I promise it's all about Staubrey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Girls

Everyone knows an Aubrey Posen.

Okay, well, like, not literally. That would be kind of crazy if every single person on the planet knew someone named Aubrey Posen, right? But I did once learn about this thing called the six degrees of separation. So, maybe everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody named Aubrey Posen? I’m getting off topic, aren’t I?

What I meant to say was that everybody knows someone  _ like _ Aubrey Posen.

She’s the quintessential perfect “good girl.” Harvard-bound, she’s the unofficial queen of Barden High School. Valedictorian, senior class president, captain of the academic decathlon team, head cheerleader, track star, winner of the science fair three years running, tennis team captain, debate team champion, National Honors Society secretary, and founder of the Barden cultural diversity club, she truly does it all. Plus, I’m pretty sure she’s been fluent in French since before she learned English.

Aubrey is pretty much perfect. She doesn’t swear, she’s always at the very least polite to everyone, and she has an impeccable sense of style. With bright green eyes and golden hair that falls in effortless waves around her shoulders, her tight physique seems perfectly sculpted by the gods. Every boy (and plenty of girls) wants to date her. Everyone else wants to be her.

And for every Aubrey Posen out there, there’s a Stacie Conrad (figuratively, not literally). Stacie’s the token senior class rebel. She’s tall, regal really, and statuesque with legs that go on for days. She’s got long, brown locks and hazel eyes, sinfully red plump lips that tend to quirk up on the sides as she smirks at people. She always dresses in black, or red.

Stacie Conrad wears the title of “rebel” like a badge of honor. She’ll skip class to be found coming out of some janitor’s closet or bathroom, half-dressed and hair mussed. Rumor has it she slept with half the football team in one week. Sometimes, I see her leaving the school building just to go work on her tan, practically getting undressed as she lays in the sun, filing her nails. And yet, despite her near constant absenteeism, Stacie is brilliant. Answers roll off her tongue with a twirl of her hair, a snap of her gum and a roll of her eyes. I heard she was a Mensa-certified genius. Like, Einstein level.

Outside of school, Stacie could always be found leaning seductively against brick walls with tight jeans topped with an even tighter tank top and a leather jacket. She always has one of those vape pens between her teeth, but I’ve never actually seen her smoke it (or whatever you do with those. I don’t exactly get those).

And on a more practical level, everyone knows a girl like me: Emily Junk (yes I’m aware of how stupid my mom’s last name is, but it could be worse- my dad’s last name is Hardon). Everyone knows someone like me because I’m just like everyone else. I’m average. I mean, I’m ridiculously tall, yeah but other than that I’m just average. Brown hair, brown eyes. I’m not super smart, but not dumb. I just exist, like all the extras on a movie set.

I’m okay with that. I like the background. It lets me skate through life just below the surface, always staying out of the harsh spotlight. I prefer to watch people, really. It’s how I know so much about Aubrey. Well, and she’s lived down the street from me since I was born. And I just always seem to see Stacie (how could I not? She’s everywhere). And yet, even with all of my observations of the Aubrey Posens and Stacie Conrads of the world, I never could have predicted this.

 

The first time it happened, I was out chasing my dog Bruiser (yes- Bruiser Junk. When we adopted him he was an adult and he already had a name so we couldn’t change it). He’s a big, friendly Great Dane, so I figured it would be easy enough to spot him after he ran out the front door. I just grabbed a sweater and a pair of slippers and headed out into the neighborhood, pulling it tighter around me to ward off the November chill.

I heard a rustling noise when I passed by the Posen manor. Stopping to look around, I saw the lean, sleek figure of Aubrey Posen- decked out in all black, but nothing could hide those blonde curls- shimmying down the drainpipe attached to her garage. I was going to call out to her in hopes that she could help me find Bruiser, but I figured she was sneaking out for a reason. Maybe she had a boyfriend to see? Shrugging, I decided to check the woods around the pond down the street since Bruiser likes to swim and chase the ducks there in the summer.

I was just coming around the head of the trail when I started to hear the noises. Now, I may be a plain-looking fourteen year old who’s never been kissed outside of a spin the bottle or truth or dare circle, but I know what it sounds like when two people are hooking up. Hell, my mom has a five-octave vocal range so you  _ know _ I’ve heard way more than I’ve ever wanted to. Anyway, I recognized the sex noises almost as soon as I turned the corner. But by the time I’d turned the corner, it was too late to think, or walk away, or avert my gaze.

No, I just stood there like an idiot while Stacie Conrad straddled a topless Aubrey Posen, black sweater strewn on the ground. Stacie was kissing her, one hand on her chest and the other tangled in her hair. Like the idiot I am, I just stood there, mouth agape until Aubrey finally glanced over and found me.

“Emily,!” She lets out a strangled gasp, actually shoving Stacie off of her as she tries to cover her bare chest. Stacie drapes her in her sweatshirt and Aubrey just blushes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I was just… I’ll just- I’m leaving now. Have a nice night,” I call out awkwardly as I try to run away. I manage to make it back out to the street, tripping over stray roots and twigs, before Aubrey catches up with me.

“Hey, Em, about what you saw,” she starts.

“No, no, it’s cool. Whatever makes you happy. I mean, I assume you’re happy. You looked pretty happy- not that I was being creepy and watching. I didn’t mean to spy. I’m just looking for Bruiser because he ran out the front door, and he really likes walking on the trails. So if you see him-” Thankfully, Aubrey interrupts my rambling.

“Em, relax,” she laughs. I manage to smile nervously, running a hand through my hair. “We didn’t see Bruiser around, and if we do we’ll try and grab him. But about what you saw- could you maybe not tell anyone? My parents have this rule about me dating because they think it’ll affect my chances of getting into Harvard.” I nod, understanding the inner workings of General Posen and his rules.

“Yeah, no problem. I guess even the good girls have to break the rules sometimes and be bad girls,” I giggle nervously. An odd look crosses her face, but just as quickly it’s gone.

“Uh, yeah, whatever. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?” Before I can nod, she’s running back to Stacie, holding the jacket tightly around her. I nod and just keep running back towards my house. When I get back home, Bruiser is sitting on the front steps, wagging his tail. His tongue lolls out and he seems to be smiling, waiting for me to let him back inside, head cocked to the side as if to say, “What took you so long?”

 

The next time it happened, I was slightly more prepared.

A few weeks had passed, and I was on the slippery slope to failing Algebra 2 when Mr. Joffrey recommended Aubrey as a tutor. Every Thursday afternoon, she volunteers her time in the school library until six P.M. to facilitate her program. She’s got twelve tutors- all instructed to her standards- who help a gaggle of rotating students all looking to pass some class, test, or project. When I asked one of them for Aubrey, I was told to find her in the self-help books. Apparently, she had a few minutes to spare and is looking into starting a peer mentoring club.

The self-help books are crammed into some dark, side corridor of the library, wedged in a back corner that leads to an unused storage closet. I’ve never seen anyone over here. Never even knew it existed. Of course Aubrey knew it was here. She knows everything. About everything.

When I came around the corner to the small, dusty self-help section, I first noticed the books scattered on the floor, left open to random pages. The next thing I noticed, and the more important thing, was Stacie pinning Aubrey against the wall, mouth on her neck. This time, Aubrey sort of had a shirt on (her blouse was unbuttoned and hanging off her shoulders, but she did have a bra on, and that’s more than the last time I caught them in this position). Stacie’s just starting to paw at the button on Aubrey’s pants when I find my voice again.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, mindful of our surroundings even if they aren’t.

“Jesus kid, you are the biggest human cockblock I have ever met,” Stacie hisses when Aubrey shoves her away. A flushed Aubrey just shoots Stacie a dark look as she buttons up her shirt.

“It’s not intentional, Stace. What’s up, Emily?” She’s smiling at me, being so nice. And I don’t know why, but I’m kind of angry with her.

“What’s up with  _ me? _ What’s up with  _ you?” _ I hiss angrily. “Ever since I was a kid, my parents have told me to look up to you! ‘Be more like Aubrey Posen, Emily,’ they said. ‘She’s a good girl. She’s gonna go to  _ Harvard _ ,’ they said. I look up to you, and here you are having sex in a library on top of a pile of self-help books!” I don’t know why but my chest is heaving as I finish my rant. Probably adrenaline. And fear. I mean, I  _ did _ just whisper-yell at the two most popular, powerful, and influential in this school.

“Emily,” Aubrey sighs. I deflate, knowing she’s about to lecture me. Or she pities me. I don’t know which is worse.

“How old are you?” Stacie asks suddenly, her voice sharp. I stare at my feet, suddenly shy. “Kid, how old are you?”

“Fourteen,” I mumble.

“So you’re still young. But you should know by now that it’s not as easy as good girls and bad girls,” Stacie explains, gentler now.

“Yeah, but-” I begin.

“No buts,” Aubrey interrupts. Forget everything you thought you knew. Let me tell you a little secret about the world. All those good girls? They’re really just naughty little bad girls who haven’t been caught,” she giggles, blushing. Stacie smirks, coming over to stand behind Aubrey, wrapping her arms around Aubrey’s stomach, resting her chin on Aubrey’s shoulder.

“Is that what you are? A naughty little bad girl?” Stacie murmurs in Aubrey’s ear.

“Um, I’m still here and I still need help not failing Algebra,” I cough awkwardly in hopes that they won’t just start having sex in front of me.

“Mmmm, fifteen minutes. Go out there and start your homework or something,” Aubrey sighs, eyes closed as Stacie begins to kiss her way down Aubrey’s jaw and neck.

“Thirty,” Stacie corrects.

“Twenty,” Aubrey compromises. I just nod, turning and hurrying back to the main library to put my stuff on an empty table.

“Um, Aubrey is in the middle of something important. She said not to disrupt her for the next thirty minutes,” I tell the boy who seems to be running things. No need to traumatize anyone if they don’t finish in twenty, I figured as I opened my bag to start my homework.

 

When January rolls around, no one is surprised that Aubrey got into Harvard Pre-Law.

They were pretty surprised in February when she and Stacie got caught topless, making out in the bathroom during the Winter Ball.

They were downright shocked when the girls started publicly dating and Aubrey moved in with “that really tall, quiet freshman” down the street for a month because her dad kicked her out. 

The rumors were flying, and if this were an actual gossip column, headlines would be screaming in bold letters: Barden’s resident good girl gone bad. It was so sudden, her fall from grace, they all claim. I just sat back, watching them gossip and laughing all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes? No? Maybe? IDK guys I liked writing it, did you like reading it? Any other songs? How's your day going?


End file.
